


what didn't kill you probably killed me instead

by weatheredlaw



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Hate Sex, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thing is, they do have a history, and it isn’t pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what didn't kill you probably killed me instead

It isn’t hard to shoot her in the head. Same way it probably wasn’t hard for her to shoot him in the back. Steal his dignity, all over again. He remembers North coming at him, once, finding out that knobbly-knees Agent Washington was fucking his sister. Of course, fucking implies, usually, that everyone is enjoying themselves. Wash suspects that South wasn’t ever really doing it for kicks. Not even for fun. He always remembers it being like another training exercise, the way her eyes would glaze over and she would pace herself, breathing never getting too labored, pulse never too quick. He could think of anything he wanted to, and for some reason, they’d both get off. Maybe it was the listlessness of it. Maybe the reason they were all so fucking good at what they did was because they got off on monotony. 

“You’re playing with fire,” York said. He caught them gnawing at each others’ faces in the locker room. “That looked like fun,” he added dryly. “North’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if she kills me first,” Wash muttered, and that got a laugh out of his friend. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell her he was done, either, because she was always saying it was over. Like it was some big thing they had together. Like he might be lonely without her. 

 

 

 

She doesn’t say anything about it, before he kills her. And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it’s because she’s forgotten. Wash hasn’t. Forgetting is hard to do, these days. Memories blend and fade and distort, but they _remain_ , which seems to be the only thing Epsilon left behind. 

 

 

 

“Are you fucking my sister?” It was probably the meanest Wash had ever seen North, and that was _after_ he’d punched him in the face. Laying on the ground, looking up at the plain steel of the ceiling, Wash wondered if maybe South had planned this, and she was, from some dismal corner of the base, laughing at the thought of big brother unloading his annoyance into Wash’s gut a few times over. 

“ _Jesus!_ ” South’s voice had trailed over them both and she was railing against her brother, telling him off for embarrassing her, embarrassing Wash, making them all look like idiots.

The only one laughing was Theta, who just didn’t understand. 

 

 

 

“South tried to kill me once before.” 

_In more ways than you’ll ever realize._

They never really talked a lot after. She’d lay there, just for a bit, bored, distracted. Then she’d get dressed and stalk out, never any happier, never seeming all that different. But there was once, just before everything went to hell.

“I wish I’d stayed home,” she muttered, sitting up. Wash could always admit that South was lovely, even if she sucked all the oxygen out of the room. “What’s the point in being here if I’m just North’s sidekick?”

“Technically Theta is a sidekick. You’re a lot more useful than you think.”

“You’re not helpful,” she muttered, tucking her knees against her chest. 

“You can have my A.I.”

“Again, not helpful.” Then: “You don’t want it?”

“Not especially.”

“What happened to Carolina--”

“Shouldn’t have happened,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t it seem a little fucked?”

“Everything is fucked,” she answered, and got out of bed. “I don’t want your sloppy seconds, Wash.”

It was the last time he really saw her. Before North’s beacon went off. Before Epsilon fell to pieces. Before _he_ fell to pieces. He couldn’t say, then, when he saw her standing over North’s body, that he was happy. Nothing about South had ever made him very happy. He couldn’t say South had ever been happy even on her own. Bitter and biting and miserable and _jealous_. 

_No sloppy seconds_ , he thinks, tearing her armor and her body to pieces. _No sloppy seconds_.

**Author's Note:**

> i've been doing a massive binge re-watch of red vs blue and i'm currently around season 7. expect a lot of material from me lol. got to thinking of this a bit after watching recovery one and season 6 again, and based on what i remember of the later project freelancer episodes, which i'm hoping to actually get to next week so i can seriously dig in.


End file.
